


Wolves in the Night

by kfantastique



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Southern Vampire Mysteries, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Demon Tony Stark, Demons, Fairies, M/M, Shapeshifter Natasha Romanov, Shapeshifter Sam Wilson, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Vampire Steve Rogers, Vampires, Werewolf Bucky Barnes, Werewolf Clint Barton, Werewolves, Witch Bruce Banner, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-04 06:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kfantastique/pseuds/kfantastique
Summary: Clint is running for his life. When his brother and packmaster finally catch up to him, he's sure this is it; he's about to die. Suddenly, a gigantic black wolf comes to his rescue and Clint can't help but be grateful.An AU set in the Southern Vampire Mysteries verse. (Not a crossover)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of one of my short stories. The first chapter is the same as it is  
> [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530964/chapters/36052299)

Clint tried desperately not to whine as he pelted through the forest as quickly as his injured hind leg would allow. The bite mark burned though and his leg threatened to crumple with every step he took; he was sure some whimpering at least escaped him. He had to keep pressing on though. Barney and Jacques were right behind him and if they caught him… well, he didn’t want to think too hard about what they’d do to him.

What a shit day to piss off the rest of his pack. Clint knew he was annoying and he usually wouldn’t dare antagonize them on a full moon night but this time, they’d gone too far. If only they could’ve waited a few days before telling him they needed him to kidnap someone’s kid. Then he could’ve told them they were being assholes and could shove it and they could’ve roughed him up some like normal people. But no, it was full moon and they were howling for his blood.

They were only a couple yards behind him now at most but if he could just make it across the creek, he might be safe. There was one small creek deep in the woods that no one in the pack dared cross. They didn’t know exactly what was in there but the general consensus was that it was haunted. There was more than one story of wolves venturing too deep into the woods and disappearing.

Clint slipped and almost fell around a corner before skidding into the creek. Oh thank God. He felt a second of intense relief before jaws closed around his already throbbing hind leg. He let out a startled bark before trying to scrabble forward into the creek and twist his leg out of the vice grip on it.

He thought he might make it for a second before a second set of jaws slammed into him from the side and clamped around his neck. He shook and whined while trying to kick at one attacker with his free leg and claw the other with his forepaws. His struggles seemed hopeless.

He twisted desperately to see that Barney had a hold of his leg which meant that it was Jacques’s fangs piercing into the back of his neck. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He may have had a chance if his brother had pinned him but Jacques was merciless. Clint felt the panic starting to rise in his chest. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed and he struggled to breathe. He was about to die. Jacques would rip him limb from limb.

A whining cry escaped past Clint’s teeth and he thrashed violently. If he could just twist away, the creek was right there…

A hair raising growl made Jacques stiffen and Clint felt Barney’s grip on his leg lift up. Clint tried to look around for the source but stilled when the teeth on his neck sliced into him further.

The growling continued and Clint perked his ears towards very faint sounds of movement just beyond where he could see, in the direction of the creek. Suddenly, Jacques released him and Clint staggered to the ground. As Jacques began to growl his warning in return, Clint carefully turned to see the largest wolf he had ever laid eyes on.

The newcomer was massive and pitch black and angry and smelled distinctly of were. Despite his pain and fear, Clint couldn't help but be a little impressed. This wolf was even bigger than Jacques and definitely looked like he could take him, no problem.

Which probably meant it would be a good idea to get out of the way. Clint shifted and tried to get his paws under him to slink away but faltered and whimpered at his injured hindpaw. The newcomer’s ears went flat to his skull and he crouched slightly in a way that clearly said to back off.

Jacques growled in response before turning to glance at Barney and step over Clint towards the black wolf. Barney shifted forward as well and together, they stalked the black wolf, closing in on him from two sides.

Clint looked wildly between the three of them before making a very stupid decision. He lurched forward and clamped down on Jacques’s hindpaw with his teeth. When Jacques cried out and turned to snap at Clint, the black wolf lunged. He covered several feet in a single bound and his massive jaws clamped around Jacques’s throat.

Before Barney had time to do anything but freeze from shock, the black wolf turned to look at him pointedly, completely ignoring Jacques’s struggles. Clint watched as the black wolf made eye contact with his brother and then very deliberately tore out Jacques’s throat.

Clint flinched and whined a bit, suddenly afraid for his brother’s life but Barney turned tail and fled. And the black wolf seemed content to let him. Clint looked around to see him sloshing his muzzle around in the stream as if to wash off the blood. He felt a heady sense of relief; at least this wolf wasn’t into cannibalism. He’d heard rumors before of crazed loners.

When he was done, the black wolf looked up at Clint and tilted his head. Clint huffed in response; he wasn’t sure if he could walk. He steeled himself and then pushed up onto his forepaws. So far, so good. He slowly continued his way up and made it to standing on three legs. When he gingerly put some weight on his injured leg though, it immediately gave and he almost hit the ground again.

Clint whined and looked up to see the huge black wolf cautiously approaching him. When they were almost nose to nose, Clint decided to take a huge gamble. If he’d wanted to, this wolf would've killed him already, so Clint slowly tipped his head to bear his throat.

There was a nerve-wracking moment where Clint was sure he was about to die before the other wolf leaned in and simply sniffled him. Clint sagged in relief. Then the black wolf moved up next to him and pressed their bodies together, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. He huffed and leaned gently into Clint until Clint leaned back against him. Then he picked up his front paw and placed it on the ground in front of him, prompting Clint to start moving forward.

It was shuffling and awkward but, leaning against the other wolf, Clint was able to make it over to the creek. He took a much needed drink before the black wolf urged Clint to cross the shallow water with him and they headed into the woods. Clint did not look back at Jacques’s now human body.

After a mile or so, Clint was aching and trying his hardest not to whimper but he was pretty sure his new friend could pick up on how much he was hurting. The black wolf huffed encouragingly at him occasionally but gently urged him onwards. Eventually though, the black wolf slowed to a stop and shifted slowly away from Clint, leaving him standing by the base of a large tree.

Clint watched on three paws while the other wolf grasped a large branch in his jaws and shifted it enough to reveal a small den dug into the ground beneath a tree root. Clint would’ve smiled in relief if he hadn’t had a muzzle at the time.

The black wolf came back to his side to help him to the edge of the den and then jumped lightly down the small decline. Clint made the wolfy equivalent of a raised eyebrow at him. The black wolf huffed in amusement before laying down at the bottom of the slope.

It seriously looked like he wanted Clint to slide down it and land on him. Clint waited a moment to make sure he was reading this right and then mentally shrugged before carefully slipping down the slope and landing sprawled across his friend.

The black wolf rolled out from under him and gave him an amused look before nosing at him until he crawled farther into the little den. When he was sufficiently sheltered by the small overhang, Clint gave up moving anymore that night and flopped down on his side and panted. Not only did the back of his neck feel raw and his hind leg skinned, but now his hips and other hind leg ached from awkwardly doing the work meant for two legs.

Clint yelped and jerked when something rasped over the wound on his leg. He whipped around to see the huge black wolf crouched down, seemingly licking Clint’s wounds. That was… Well. Huh.

Clint carefully settled back down and laid his head on his forepaws so he could see the other wolf from his right eye. He was used to licking his own wounds, literally and figuratively, and to have someone else care for him… he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

It didn't take long for the black wolf to clean all the blood and dirt from Clint’s leg and by the time he'd finished, Clint was feeling much more relaxed. More relaxed than he'd felt in days really. Since before finding out about his pack’s newest scheme.

So when the black wolf cautiously approached him and bent to sniff at Clint’s neck, Clint didn't even flinch. He rolled his head a bit and closed his eyes comfortably as the other wolf laid out beside him and began to clean his neck. He drifted off to sleep pressed up against a warm body and the quiet sounds the black wolf made cleaning him up.

Clint woke slow and groggy as he usually did after a full moon. He felt like there was cotton in his head and his eyes refused to open just yet; though he could see weak sunlight through his eyelids. He swallowed and shifted his legs around a bit remembering the new bite mark he'd likely have in his calf.

Someone behind him murmured sleepily and an arm that Clint was just realizing was slung around his middle tightened. Clint stilled and willed his fuzzy brain to put together the pieces.

“Still moon hungover,” said a gruff voice behind him. “Freak out later.”

The voice sounded pleasantly familiar and Clint wholeheartedly agreed with it. He was still too fuzzy to work out who exactly he was with or even where he was so he just snuggled into the broad chest behind him and started to drift back to sleep. It wouldn't be the first time Clint’d woken up in a stranger's bed after a full moon, after all. A stranger. Like the black wolf that'd saved him last night. Aha, his brain sleepily supplied, the black wolf.

Clint woke up again an indeterminate amount of time later feeling much better. He stretched all his limbs, feeling a slight pull on his wounds, and immediately registered that there was no longer a firm solid body pressed up against him. He peeled his eyes open slowly and was met with quite a pretty sight.

The man who had obviously been the massive black wolf was sitting propped up against the side of the den buck-ass naked. And what a sight he made. His long dark hair brushed his chiseled and stubbled jaw line, his shoulders and pecs were exquisitely muscled, and his strong thighs briefly made Clint picture his head between them.

Clint shook his head and raised his eyes to meet the guy’s amused storm grey ones. “Uh, hey,” he croaked out.

The corner of the guy's mouth lifted in a smile. “Mornin',” he answered back.

Clint pushed himself up to sit. “Thanks for, you know, saving my life last night.” He ducked his head and lowered his eyes. Which was exactly the wrong move this morning; sitting up, Clint had an excellent view of the guy’s crotch. And speaking of excellent…

“Sure,” the guy said and Clint jerked his eyes back upward. “Name's Bucky,” he continued with a smirk that said he knew where Clint had been looking.

Clint tried not to blush. “I'm Clint.”

“How d’you feel?” Bucky asked him and Clint stretched his whole body to take stock. He could feel new scabs pulling on his calf and neck but, overall, not too bad. He'd definitely had worse.

“Better than expected,” Clint told him and looked up to catch Bucky’s eyes wandering over his own naked body. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Bucky didn't look a bit sheepish. “You got anywhere you need to be?” he asked.

Clint sighed. “Nah,” he said. “I imagine I'm out of the pack for good after what happened last night.” Bucky's expression turned sympathetic. Clint shrugged. “Don't worry about it. I'm done with that bunch of criminals anyway.”

“Well,” Bucky said slowly, “how about you let me buy you breakfast?”

Clint raised his eyebrows but the man seemed sincere. “Yeah alright,” he said. “‘S only fair anyway. Usually I make a guy take me out to eat before I sleep with them.” Clint grinned at Bucky cheekily.

Bucky looked at him bemused. “This ain’t a date,” he said and Clint felt his face start to fall in disappointment. “When I take you on a date,” Bucky continued quickly, “you'll know about it.”

Relief flooded through Clint followed quickly by excitement and he smiled wide across the tight space at Bucky. “I look forward to it then,” he said and winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this is your first read through or if you are skimming chapter 1 for a refresher, I'm curious to know which creatures you think I will make each of the Avengers? It was really hard for me to make up my mind. I can picture each of them as multiple different creatures...


	2. Chapter 2

Climbing out of the small den was slow and awkward but with a hand up from Bucky, Clint thought he managed ok. When they were finally upright and blinking in the sunlight, Clint averted his eyes from the gorgeous sight that was Bucky naked and looked to inspect his calf.

“Ugh.” There was a clear outline of canine jaws wrapped neatly around his right calf. Most of those original punctures were scabbed over and not too deep except for the two top fang marks. The really disturbing part though was where along the lower part of the bite mark, a couple inches square patch of skin seemed to have been ripped away completely. That must’ve happened when Barney’d snagged him that second time by the creek and Clint had tried to twist away. The whole area was scabbed around the edges but glistening still in the center, though it wasn’t actively bleeding, so, yay for werewolf healing. And, aside from the scabs, his whole calf was turning a lovely purple shade. Ok, he looked pretty gross.

“So, you gonna be able to manage to walk back to my truck or you need a hand?” Bucky asked him.

Clint jerked his head up from his injury making the punctures in his neck sting. “Oh, sure,” Clint told him confidently. “It’s cool; I’ll be fine.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. True, Clint hadn’t tried to put his weight on the leg yet but how bad could it really be? He gingerly rested some weight on the ball of his foot from where he’d been balancing on his toes and his leg promptly gave under the pressure. Clint barely kept from pitching over but failed to suppress the hiss that slipped out passed his teeth.

“Yeah, you’re not fine,” Bucky told him and was suddenly  _ right there _ beside Clint, pulling Clint’s arm over his shoulder. Clint made a small, token noise of protest but didn’t pull away. He knew he wouldn’t be getting far without help.

“Alright,” Clint said, defeated, “thanks.” Bucky didn’t respond, just wrapped his left arm around Clint’s middle and grabbed Clint’s right hand in his.

Clint tried really hard not to be solely focused on Bucky’s hard body pressed up against his. It wasn’t long though, before the pain of shuffling forward pretty much pushed all inappropriate thoughts to the back of his mind. They had to stop three times for Clint to rest propped up against a tree before they made it to Bucky’s truck parked off an underused dirt road.

Clint sat in the passenger seat panting while Bucky rooted around in a duffle bag. After a minute, he came around to Clint’s side again wearing jeans and a flannel (which Clint thought was a real shame) and handed Clint some athletic shorts and a black undershirt.

“That’s all I got,” he said apologetically. “Only brought one change of clothes.”

Clint flapped a hand at the apology and shuffled around to get the shorts on. “Way better than nothing,” he said cheerfully. “Thanks.”

Bucky nodded and held out some Neosporin and a roll of gauze. “Can I?” he asked.

Clint eyed him up for a second but then nodded. He could most likely do it himself, but if a hot guy was offering to take care of him, he wasn’t going to say no.

Clint tugged the shirt on and tried not to flinch too hard while Bucky crouched to dab the ointment on his open wound. The shirt was a little too tight across the chest but it was in a way that Clint knew was to his advantage, so he didn’t worry about it.

Bucky wrapped his leg in the gauze gently and stood to offer the ointment again. “Your neck’s not so bad,” he said, “but it couldn’t hurt.”

Clint didn’t answer for a moment as Bucky’s eyes roved hungrily over his chest. He schooled his expression into careful neutrality and said, “Would you mind doing it for me?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to his face, a neutral expression of his own completely ruined by the tip of pink tongue that darted out to wet his lips. Clint squashed down on the instinct to growl.

“No problem,” Bucky told him with a near-transparent layer of nonchalance.

Clint turned his back to Bucky, exposing the stinging wounds on his neck. Bucky moved up behind him close enough for Clint to feel the heat of his body. He wished that body was pressed up against him again.

Clint twitched a little as Bucky dabbed a gentle finger over one of the cuts. “These aren’t too bad,” Bucky breathed close to his ear and Clint shivered. Bucky dabbed at a few more cuts and Clint could practically feel the tension between them like a physical presence though Bucky wasn’t touching him at all apart from the fingertips on his neck.

Clint was working up the courage to say something in vague invitation when his stomach gave an almighty growl. Bucky let out a startled laugh behind him and Clint felt the coolness between them as he moved away.

“Let’s get you something to eat, huh?” Bucky said around a chuckle and moved back around the truck. 

Clint let out a sigh and settled for second best. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

They drove a few miles and then through a fast food drive through since Clint didn’t have any shoes and Bucky parked in the back of the lot so they could sit and eat. Clint hadn’t realized how hungry he really was until he smelled the food. Before he thought to pay attention to anything else, he’d eaten three sausage biscuits and an order of hashbrowns.

He slumped back in his seat and sighed. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

Bucky nodded at him thoughtfully. “So, those two guys last night were in your pack?”

Clint groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Jacques and my brother, Barney.”

Bucky looked briefly horrified. “I didn’t-”

“No!” Clint cut him off. “No, Barney was the one that ran off.” Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “Not that I would’ve been too broken up about it,” Clint muttered murderously. “I’m pretty sure they were willing to kill me to make sure I didn’t snitch on their plan after I refused to help them.”

Bucky frowned. “So, do you have anywhere else to go, or…?”

That brought Clint up short. His mind briefly flashed to Kate but she had been whisked away to the West coast by a rich aunt after her parents died a year ago. Everything he owned in the world was in the camper he shared with Barney where they had been camped with most of the rest of the pack. And where he was almost certainly not welcome back.

Clint gulped, “I- I’ll figure something out.” He shrugged. “I always do.”

He glanced up at Bucky who had fixed him with a hard look. Bucky continued staring at him for a minute before blinking and turning to start the car. “You’re coming home with me,” Bucky told him gruffly in a tone that brooked no argument. Clint stared at the side of his face as they pulled away from the restaurant and found himself smiling.

They drove for nearly an hour as the landscape changed from town to suburbs to mostly wooded. Bucky turned onto an unmarked gravel road, drove a few yards, and stopped.

Clint turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Look, man, if this is the part where you murder me and dump my body in the woods, it’ll have been kind of mixed signals to have saved my life yesterday.”

Bucky looked at him like he was insane for a moment but then laughed. “You are ridiculous.” Clint didn’t disagree. “I need to kind of make you aware of my situation before I just show up with you.”

“Ok,” said Clint cautiously. “Shoot.”

“I’m not in a pack,” Bucky told him bluntly. Clint nodded; it wasn’t unheard of. “Not a traditional one anyway. I live with some friends of mine but we don’t really advertise the fact that we’re all… connected,” he said cryptically.

“Ookaay,” Clint said when Bucky paused. He didn’t see where this was going. “They know you’re a werewolf, right?”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Definitely,” he said. “And, most likely, they’ll know you’re one too once they meet you.” That sounded a bit ominous but Clint stayed silent. “We’re all together for various different circumstances. Some of which are… not happy.” Bucky frowned when he couldn’t seem to find adequate words but Clint nodded encouragingly at him. “Anyway, we protect each other.”

“Sounds like a pack to me,” Clint remarked.

Bucky smiled a little ruefully. “Don’t let any wolves hear you calling this group of misfits a pack,” he said fondly. “There’s me, but there’s also two shifters, a witch, a demon, and, well,” he paused briefly and looked nervous. “This is the other part of what I wanted to warn you about. One of my friends is a vamp.”

Clint felt his eyes go wide. It was a rare thing to meet a were that would associate with a vamp. And not only that, but he had been pretty sure up to this point that demons were completely mythological. He briefly entertained the idea of asking Bucky to just drop him off at the nearest town. But a) he had no money and no one to help him and b) he couldn’t let the crease that had formed between Bucky’s eyebrows be because of him.

He took a deep breath. “Sounds like fun.” When Bucky smiled at him, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Alright,” Bucky breathed sounding relieved. “Let’s go.” He put the truck in drive and continued another mile into the woods before they pulled into a clearing with a decent sized ranch style house in the center.

Bucky got out of the truck, slung his empty duffle over his shoulder, and rounded the car to Clint’s side again. Clint opened his door and slid off the seat to land lightly on his uninjured leg. Bucky slid his arm around Clint’s middle in a familiar way that made Clint’s insides squirm pleasantly and Clint wrapped his right arm around Bucky’s neck so they could hobble up to the house.

They only made it a couple of steps forward though before Bucky suddenly ducked and Clint narrowly avoided falling on his ass. “Whoa!” Clint exclaimed while they steadied themselves and each other. He looked over at Bucky to see him scowling up at the sky.

“You menace!” he shouted and Clint looked wildly around for whoever he was shouting at. “Fuckin’ asshole,” Bucky muttered. “Sorry about that,” he added to Clint.

“About what?” Clint asked looking around confusedly. “I didn’t even see anything?”

Bucky scoffed. “Aerial attack from one of my asshole friends.”

Clint finally looked up and spotted a falcon perched on the point of the roof of the house. Huh, he’d never seen anyone shift into a bird before. “He’s not trying to warn me off, is he?” he asked cautiously but laughed before he got an answer when he looked up at Bucky. The bird must’ve mussed his hair.

“No. What?” Bucky answered his question automatically but seemed confused by his laughter.

Clint reached his free left hand up to finger-comb Bucky’s hair flat from where it was sticking out wildly. When he looked back down, it was to find Bucky’s striking grey eyes gazing at him intensely. Clint was suddenly extremely aware of all the places where they were pressed together. Then when Bucky parted his lips slightly, he was only aware of the places they were not touching: namely their mouths. Bucky’s lips were right there, he could just lean forward a little…

A throat cleared somewhere in the direction of the house and Clint would’ve leapt backwards if Bucky hadn’t been holding him around his waist. As it was, he accidentally put a little weight on his injured leg and just whimpered a bit. Bucky turned a dark scowl on the source of the interruption but kept Clint pressed up against his side. Clint turned his gaze to see a slim black guy wearing only a pair of gym shorts and grinning.

“You’re an ass,” Bucky told the guy irritably.

The guy kept smiling. “Nice to see you too Bucky. I’m great, thanks for asking. Who’s your friend?”

Clint chuckled at the guy’s sarcastic response and felt Bucky relax against him. “Whatever,” Bucky said huffily. “This is Clint. Clint, meet Sam.”

Clint smiled at Sam and waved a bit. “Bucky’s the knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress.”

Sam let out a bark of surprised laughter and smiled warmly at Clint. “Why don’t you come inside?” he asked. “I can take a look at that leg if you want: I’m a parametic.”

Clint nodded gratefully and Bucky squeezed his hip a bit before helping him into the house. “Sam is the asshole bird, in case you missed that,” Bucky murmured to Clint as they shuffled into a spacious living room.

“I heard that!” Sam shouted from the other room and Clint had to chuckle. Sam appeared back around a doorframe now wearing a shirt and holding a box with a red cross on it and knelt on the floor next to Clint. “You mind?” he asked and gestured towards Clint’s injured leg. Clint shook his head and propped his foot up on the coffee table.

“So, what are you?” Sam asked casually after unwrapping Clint’s leg delicately. “I’m a werefalcon.”

Clint raised his eyebrows at the term but said nothing even as Bucky huffed an unimpressed breath through his nose. “Uh, werewolf,” Clint told him.

Sam nodded. “Thought that’s what your smell was. Well, your bite mark is surprisingly clean actually.” Clint blushed and pointedly did not look at Bucky. It was kind of private to let someone else lick your wounds. Sam glanced between them but didn’t say anything further about it. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches either so I’ll just disinfect again and get you a proper bandage after you wash off.”

Clint relaxed a little, relieved his leg would be ok. Bucky helped him off the couch and hobble to a large bathroom so he could clean up. Afterwards, he hopped on one leg awkwardly down the hall back to the living room and spotted Sam on the couch with a woman and another man sitting in an armchair.

Sam looked up at his entrance. “Hey!,” he said and hurried to Clint’s side to offer his arm. Clint took it gratefully and sank into another armchair before Sam said, “Clint, this is Natasha,” he gestured to the woman, “and this is Bruce.” Natasha nodded and Bruce smiled at him.

“Clint is a werewolf,” Sam told them. Natasha nodded knowingly while Bruce blinked in surprise. Sam turned back to Clint. “Nat’s a true shifter and Bruce is a witch.”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up. That was honestly not what he was expecting. But he still nodded at both and said, “hi.”

“So,” Natasha began, “we hear Bucky saved your life.”

Clint grimaced. “Uh, yeah,” he said as Sam began dressing his wound again. “He helped me out last night.”

“Why wasn’t your pack there to help?” Natasha asked him and Clint winced.

“Well, I kind of pissed them off and they were the ones chasing me,” he admitted quietly.

Natasha’s nostrils flared in what could have been anger and Sam patted his ankle sympathetically. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Sam told him sincerely.

“What kind of a pack would chase off one of their own members?” Natasha bit out, definitely angry.

“They were gonna kill him,” came from behind Clint and he jumped. “I couldn’t let that happen,” Bucky said as he stood next to Clint’s chair.

Clint tried not to smile dopily up at Bucky and chose to answer Natasha’s question instead. “Not a very good one,” he huffed. “They’re a bunch of criminals who tried to bully me into helping them kidnap some kid. I’m through with them,” he said and tried not to think about Barney.

“Whose kid?” said a new voice from across the room and Clint jumped again. Did anyone in this damn house ever make any noise? His eyes darted over toward the doorway from the entryway to spot a short man with dark hair and a goatee who had obviously just come in.

Clint stared suspiciously at the man before answering (something about him seemed off). “Uh, some guy called Von Strucker,” Clint told him absently.

The guy smiled a bone-chilling smile, his sharp white teeth flashing in the dim lighting. “Playing with fire, there,” he said sounding darkly amused.

Clint suppressed the urge to flinch away from that expression. Something was definitely wrong about the guy. He glanced nervously up towards Bucky, who looked calm enough, and back towards the newcomer.

“Nothing to worry about from little ol’ me,” the guy told Clint with a slightly less scary smile. “I’m just Tony. Welcome to my home, Clint.”

Clint felt his eyes go wide and he instinctively pressed back into his chair. What in the actual fuck? How had this guy known his name?

Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder and scoffed. “Don’t let Tony freak you out,” he said comfortingly. “He’s a demon but he’s also an idiot.”

Clint looked incredulously between Bucky and Tony while Tony huffed out a laugh. He could feel it in his bones that Tony was a demon. He did not belong in the land of the living.

“So, back to the kidnapping,” said Sam sounding exasperated. Clint reluctantly refocused his attention off Tony. “Why do a pack of werewolves want to kidnap anyone?”

“Well,” Clint started, “they didn’t tell me much. They must’ve guessed I was a flight risk. But it sounded to me like Strucker is a drug trafficker and they wanted to get in on his territory.”

Tony barked a laugh and everyone present whipped around to look at him. “Baron Von Strucker is not a drug trafficker. He’s the vampire king of Illinois.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you guessed right so far?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is way more backstory than anyone wanted but, here we are.

Clint groaned and dragged a hand over his face and up through his hair. His whole pack couldn’t possibly be so stupid as to not know this Strucker guy was a vampire king. Which meant they’d been aware of the fact that they wanted to kidnap someone from a vampire king. Ok, so they were incredibly stupid.

“Well,” he started, “they were definitely talking about kidnapping a girl for leverage to get ‘product.’ Although I’m not sure what ‘product’ a vampire would bother messing with. I didn’t think they used human drugs?” He looked around for reassurance but got mostly confusion in response.

“They don’t,” said yet another new voice and Clint whipped around yet again, making the punctures in his neck twinge. There was a large blond man standing in the doorway to what Clint had assumed was a closet but he now kind of thought were stairs to a basement. “The only drug a vampire would bother dealing in is V,” the guy said with ominous certainty.

Bucky’s hand tightened comfortingly on Clint’s shoulder. “Hey, Steve,” he said, “you’re up early. This is Clint.”

Early? It was just about sunset- Aw, hell. This must be the vampire Bucky warned him about. Clint fought the human equivalent reaction of his hackles raising. He did not like vampires. Full stop. The vampire -Steve- nodded at Bucky and fixed his eyes on Clint.

“Do you suspect Von Strucker of already dealing vampire blood or was this a plot to blackmail it out of him?” Steve asked him.

“Hey, man,” Clint said defensively, “I don’t suspect a damn thing. It’s not  _ my _ evil plot.”

“Sorry,” the vampire said quickly looking abashed. Which was an odd look on a vampire. Clint suspected that he’d have blushed if he’d had the capability.

“Don’t mind Steve,” Bucky told him gently. “Vampire politics always get him riled up.”

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed the room to sink onto the couch. Tony darted up behind him and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, this guy’s just a big ol’ softie when he’s not being righteously indignant.” Clint eyed them incredulously as everyone else in the room chuckled.

Steve smiled around at them all fondly before settling his gaze back on Clint again looking serious. “So, your pack wants to kidnap Wanda,” he stated in summary. “Did they say anything about her brother, Pietro?”

Clint went to shake his head when Tony interrupted. “Wait, by her brother, you mean twin?” Steve nodded. “So, Wanda and Pietro Lensherr?” Tony asked incredulously.

Steve shrugged. “I think they go by Maximoff,” he said. “They’re obviously not Von Strucker’s real kids since he’s a few hundred years old. You know them?”

Tony pushed out a sigh and sank onto the armrest of the couch next to Steve. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Natasha reached over to pat his knee from where she was perched on the coffee table. “What is it, Tony?” she asked assertive, but not unkind.

“I owed their grandfather, Magnus Lensherr, a great debt,” he started slowly. (Clint kept his incredulity at a demon being on the wrong end of a debt to himself.) “I won’t go into that but, whenever his progeny are born, I visit them. And, due to the unique nature of their ancestry, if they posses a certain spark, I grant them certain… abilities.” He paused and looked around at them all nervously and swallowed. “And I know what this is going to sound like but, believe me when I say I never harm them.”

Clint swallowed. This conversation was making him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t pinpoint. Bucky knelt next to him silently and slid his hand down Clint’s arm to grasp his hand. Clint tangled their fingers together gratefully and squeezed in thanks.

Across the room, Steve placed a hand on Tony’s forearm and Tony continued. “When they’re born, I give them one drop of my blood so when it mixes with their fairy gene, they gain the ability to read human minds.”

The room was silent. Clint’s mind was reeling. It was just too much to take in: from the demon blood to fairies to mind reading. What in the actual fuck? Everyone turned to stare at him. Oh, apparently he’d said that out loud. He ducked his head and they all turned to look back at Tony who was stoic.

“So,” Natasha prompted him again, “what does this mean for these kids?”

“Well, the girl, Wanda, had the gene when when she was born so, as per her grandfather’s request, I gave her the gift. Her brother should be relatively normal as far as I know. But, I do know that when I came to see them as newborns, their father, Erik, was angry when he learned I’d been to visit them. He did not have the gene and as a boy, he had always been supremely jealous of his brother, Charles, who did.

“I would not be surprised to learn that his jealousy drove a wedge between him and his family. Nor that his children choose to go by their mother’s maiden name, Maximoff. I can also see why they would be extremely desirable for a vampire to, ah, acquire. Use the brother to keep the girl in line: to use her gift for his purposes.”

Clint tried to focus on the feeling of Bucky’s hand in his. This whole situation was supremely fucked up and he was starting to pity those poor kids. He definitely understood having a fucked up family.

“I’ve seen them,” Steve said suddenly. “I’ve seen them in Von Strucker’s court when I had to attend. The boy is a young vampire and I assumed they were there because he was Von Strucker’s progeny. But I’m thinking now that the boy is Von Strucker’s progeny to keep them there.”

“We have to help them!” Clint blurted out. Whoops, he hadn’t actually meant to say anything. Everyone was looking at him again. “I mean, uh, I need to help them. I can’t just leave a couple kids to be manipulated like that,” he told them kind of desperately. “I just- I know what it’s like,” he finished quietly.

Bucky smoothed his thumb over Clint’s. “So do I,” he said sadly. “We all do.”

Clint looked around at the assembled faces. Every last one of them wore a sad look of understanding and sympathy. Clint could see the pack bond between them though they weren’t even all two-natured much less wolves. He’d been raised to think that pack was a status only werewolves could have, but these people... He could see in their eyes how they had all suffered and were supporting each other now. Natasha still had the one hand on Tony’s knee but her other was wrapped around Bruce’s ankle where his feet were propped against the coffee table; Steve’s hand remained on Tony’s forearm; Sam had moved to lean back against Steve’s legs from where he sat on the floor and had stretched one leg out so his socked foot nudged against Bucky’s knee. 

Clint’s eyes landed last where Bucky’s fingers were tangled in his and a lump formed in his throat. He could feel that this pack was a family. And with Bucky connecting him to them, he wanted so desperately to belong to them suddenly that he was embarrassed just thinking it. He only thought he’d known what a pack was.

Tony cleared his throat. “You’re not alone,” he said somewhat forcefully looking Clint right in the eye. “We’ll help you get them out. And, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”

Clint sagged in relief when everyone else nodded.

“Agreed,” Steve said before getting up to pace. “There’s going to be a trial this week at the King’s compound outside Chicago. I wasn’t going to go but I think I’ll make an appearance,” he didn’t wait for a response; it was like he was thinking out loud. “It’s been a while since I attended any state functions so it’s probably time I showed my face anyway. It shouldn’t raise any suspicion if I do a little recon on the kids.”

Clint knew that vampires were way more organized in their hierarchical structure than any of the other supes but what Steve was talking about seemed a little over the top. Trials and state functions? He guessed bureaucracy helped while away the endless nights of eternity. Or maybe they just had it like that since they’d ‘come out of the coffin’ and let the world know of their existence? He was just glad he’d been born a wolf. The intuitive pack structure was way more his speed.

“When was the kidnapping scheduled?” Steve asked him, snapping him out of his political musings.

“A couple a weeks?” he replied. “I don’t know the date but there was supposed to be this big party. A few of the guys got themselves hired as security.”

Steve clicked his fingers and pointed at him. “The King’s anniversary!” he exclaimed. “That’s... actually a really good idea,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Nab the girl while the King is preoccupied regaling the assembly with tales of his bloody hostile takeover.”

“Since Steve’s been a vampire,” Bucky whispered in Clint’s ear, “he’s been less than pleased with everything he’s learned about his King and his history.”

“You’re damn right,” Steve agreed, obviously having heard them. “These guys have all heard it from me before, Clint, but Von Strucker murdered every single vampire in the former Queen’s retinue before he assumed the throne to Illinois. And the other vampires just let him!”

They all sat around a few hours more, discussing the party and vampire politics and what little information Clint could give them about his pack’s - his  _ former _ pack’s plans. It seemed that Tony was a prominent lawyer who handled a wide range of supernatural cases, among others, and he was acquainted with King Von Strucker and his ‘distasteful’ tendencies to collect supernatural oddities.

Clint soon found himself too distracted to follow much of the conversation anymore. His thoughts kept circling back to those poor kids, one of whom was about to be kidnapped by a bunch of werewolves for leverage against a guy who had turned her brother into a vampire to be able to control her. He could see why anyone would want a telepath on their side but forcing the death that was becoming a vampire on someone just for leverage, as they suspected Von Strucker had done to Pietro, was sick.

Bucky squeezed his hand pulling him out of his own head. He really appreciated that Bucky hadn’t let go even though both their palms were kind of sweaty by now. “You look like you could use some sleep,” Bucky said kindly.

He looked up to see that Bruce and Sam had gone and Natasha was leaving down the hall while Tony and Steve talked quietly. Suddenly he realized that he was exhausted; his eyes immediately drooped and his leg throbbed. He looked back at Bucky and saw in his eyes just how tired he was too.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, “you’re probably right.” He smiled crookedly and Bucky returned it with a small one of his own before standing.

“Come on,” Bucky said as he untangled his right hand to grasp Clint’s right and haul him up, “let’s get you in bed.”

Clint didn’t even try to supress the eyebrow waggle that came to him naturally with the unintended innuendo. “If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask,” he told Bucky and winked.

Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh as he draped Clint’s arm around his neck in the now-familiar position so he could help him hobble forward. They followed Natasha down the long hallway and Bucky opened the door to one of the bedrooms. When they stepped inside, Clint’s senses were almost overwhelmed with the smell of  _ wolf _ and  _ Bucky _ .

He stuttered to a stop. “Uh, this is your room,” he said dumbly. 

“Yep,” Bucky said with the sense of an unsaid, ‘duh.’ Bucky tugged him forward towards the bed shoved in the back corner of the room. “Figured you could sleep here,” he told Clint, something tight in his voice. “Since we don’t have any extra bedrooms, I’ll just sleep in Stevie’s bed downstairs.” Clint’s stomach sank. “‘S not like he’s using it.”

“So,” Clint said, trying his hardest to not sounds too pathetically jealous, “are you and Steve, like, a thing then?”

Bucky paused as he lowered Clint to the bed. “Gross,” he said, sounding unenthused, “absolutely not.” Clint tried not to sag in relief as he finally sank onto the mattress.

“Sorry,” Clint told him quickly. “Didn’t mean to- you know- I just…”

“No, it’s- I get it,” Bucky interrupted and sat down next to him. “I mean, we are really close but he’s like my brother. Known that punk since he was five years old and three feet tall.”

“Oh,” said Clint, surprised, “so he’s not that old then. For a vampire at least.”

Bucky chuckled ruefully. “No. He’s only been a vampire for three years.” Clint saw him frown in the low light. “And it’s my own damn fault, too,” he muttered.

Clint reared back. “You are not a vampire,” he told Bucky, stating the obvious. “You didn’t change him; it is not your fault.”

Bucky turned his face up to give Clint a searching look. “That’s exactly what Steve says.”

“Smart guy,” Clint said.

Bucky shook his head. “If it weren’t for me, that punk would have graduated college and been a famous artist by now.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I kinda got into a mess a while back and the idiot went to extremes to get me out of it.”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up. It sounded like Steve had gotten himself turned into a bloodsucker on purpose. Clint wasn’t sure if he could think of anything more repulsive. Not that he had anything against Steve personally, he’d seemed like a nice guy, but there wasn’t anything or anyone in the world that would make Clint consider becoming a vampire.

“Well,” Clint said slowly, “you’re here now though, so everything must’ve turned out ok.”

Bucky barked out a humorless laugh. “I guess we’re both still alive, so there’s that.” He paused. “Although it depends on your definition of alive.”

Clint chuckled. “You’re both still walking and talking,” he conceded, “and it looks like you’ve got a home here with Tony and the others.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “You could consider that my fault as well.” He turned to look at Clint, pulling both legs up onto the bed to fold underneath himself. “Steve first summoned Tony to find me after I’d been… taken.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and swallowed. “When they found out where I was, Steve knew he couldn’t free me as he was so he asked Tony to help him become a vamp. They contacted an old vampire that Tony trusted not to manipulate Steve, Erskine I think his name was, and he did it. No hesitation. He decided it was what he needed to do to help me so he didn’t even think twice about it.”

Bucky paused and sighed. “I owe that punk everything,” he said quietly.

Clint nodded but kept quiet. He thought he’d felt that way about Barney once. Thought they had a bond of brothers through thick and thin. He knew he’d been wrong now though; looking for something that wasn’t there. Barney’d tried to kill him only last night.

“When he got me out,” Bucky continued, “I was really messed up. Downright feral. He had to ask Tony’s help again.” He shook his head and mussed his hair again. (Clint had to make a concentrated effort not to smooth it down.) “That’s when Tony got Steve in contact with Bruce.” Clint raised an eyebrow in question. “Bruce’s magic is heavily based in herbs and healing plants,” Bucky explained. “Whatever he concocted helped me find my mind again.

“Anyway,” he said, a bit more enthusiastically, “Steve is in Tony’s debt for basically forever but I don’t think Tony is ever going to actually collect because I’m pretty sure he has a huge crush on Steve.”

Clint burst out in surprised laughter. “That’s just nuts,” he said. “A demon who doesn’t want to collect but asks you to move in with him instead?”

Bucky nodded and shrugged. “Pretty much. As far as I can tell, instead of collecting debts, he collects the people that owe him. Or the ones he likes anyway. I’m pretty sure Bruce, Sam, and Nat all owe him something too but he’s content to let us all live with him instead.”

Clint sucked in a breath to get his laughter under control but then a different thought hit him. “Hey,” he said and Bucky raised his eyebrows in question, “when you said you were kinda feral, does that mean that you’re the reason my pack thought those woods were haunted?”

Bucky’s expression melted from amused to somber so quickly Clint almost took it back. But then he shrugged. “Probably.” He took a deep breath and continued. “That’s where they took me when they turned me and realized I couldn’t be caged.”

Clint couldn’t immediately process that statement. Who had turned him into what? Bucky looked up at him through his eyelashes and must’ve seen the look of confusion on Clint’s face.

He brought his head up to look Clint square in the eye, like he was fortifying himself to say something out loud. “I was not born a werewolf,” he started. “Only my father was a were so obviously I couldn’t change.” Clint felt his brows pull together in confusion. Only two weres could produce another were and Bucky had definitely been a wolf last night.

“I was kidnapped by a group of witches that called themselves Hydra. They experimented on me until they figured out how to force my body to change.” Bucky’s voice had gone low and thick. “They made me into a vicious animal so they could use me for their own ends. Steve murdered them all,” he finished looking both devastated and furious.

Clint couldn’t help it. He leaned over and wrapped Bucky in a hug. He should probably be freaked out. He’d seen the carnage a vampire could leave behind. But his only thoughts were concern for Bucky even as Bucky slumped into his embrace. Being a werewolf was supposed to make you free. You could literally shed your skin and your worries and run and play and fight with your pack. But this poor son of a bitch had been made into a werewolf for the sole purpose of being controlled. Clint wasn’t sure how that was even possible but anger burned deep inside him  at those who had done this to Bucky.

He squeezed Bucky closer to him and Bucky moved up the bed to cuddle up beside him. He stroked Bucky’s hair until his breath evened out and eventually, sleep claimed him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due: I have lifted the demon blood plotline almost straight from Charlaine Harris's Dead Reckoning. With a few twisted details.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Hopefully back to the actual plot next chapter!  
> -k


End file.
